


Secret Moments in a Crowded Room

by youremymariah_carey



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Café Tropical, Canon Compliant, David Rose Loves Patrick Brewer, Episode: s05e11 Meet the Parents, Fluff, M/M, Patrick Brewer is a Button, Patrick's surprise party, Sweet Moments, Twyla Sands Character Study, Twyla is amazing, Twyla sees everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youremymariah_carey/pseuds/youremymariah_carey
Summary: Twyla is often overlooked by the residents of Schitt’s Creek and while she’s got a weird, slightly disturbing dark past, she somehow maintains a sunny persona through it all. Working at the Cafe has afforded her the opportunity to see very closely a lot of the relationships emerging in town. When she’s bussing tables, she often gets snippets of conversations and sees moments that no one else gets to.This is a fic from Twyla’s perspective of the Meet the Parents episode: S5 Ep 11. It's also a character study in a lot of ways, I just love Twyla and these characters.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 17
Kudos: 86





	Secret Moments in a Crowded Room

_It truly was a transformation,_ Twyla thought, looking around the room at the beautifully decorated café tropical. Usually, at this time, a small dinner crowd could be found at the café. Twyla would be waiting tables, and the night would go on as it always did. But tonight, white string lights dangled from the ceiling around the cafe, casting a warm glow throughout the room. Beneath them, couples sat across from each other in booths, heads bent forward, voices low, intimate. Others talked amicably in groups, laughing, snacking on crab cakes, and nursing drinks as they talked amongst themselves. Other couples, Jocelyn and Roland at the center, sway in time to the soft music playing from the speakers, their arms wrapped around each other. The tables that normally crowd the middle of the cafe, taking up the space where the couples danced, sit in the back room, piled on top of each other, tucked away. Twyla smiled and listened, the music and conversations bubbling around her. The shuffle of songs that play is from David’s curated playlist – an ode to Patrick and their relationship with _The Best_ by Tina Turner, one of their favorites, at the top. Hearing the song now brought her to another intimate evening: one with twinkling lights and glasses of wine, but this time, at the Rose Apothecary. Patrick was on a small stage, opening for the first Open Mic Night at the store with his own performance of a gorgeous rendition of the Tina Turner classic. All eyes were on him as he sang, but he was focused solely on David. 

Presently, as she watched the Rose family greet the Brewers with open arms, she saw clearly how much they’ve changed. Before, where there was hardness and sarcasm, overconfidence to mask the deep insecurities they all had; now, there was a softness about them. Yes, they were still selfish in a lot of ways and clueless in others but the difference from when they first arrived in Schitt's Creek was unmistakable. The first thing she’d ever heard the infamous Moira Rose say as they dined at the Cafe that first time was still etched permanently in her mind. 

Moira, extravagant as ever, designer sunglasses gripped loosely in her hand, dark eyeshadow covering her lids emphasizing her piercing blue eyes, was looking at Alexis, her face completely straight and serious. _“Well, that is not happening,_ ” said Moira, her eyes narrowed slightly, and Alexis shrank down in her seat under her scrutinizing and vaguely disgusted gaze, “ _and I am appalled that my baby girl has turned into a selfish, duplicitous whore._ ” The last word hung in the air as Twyla had walked up to the table. They had all turned to her then, probably wondering if she was going to mention anything about the comment, but as she was used to the language that was often used in her family, _Uncle Kenny really did have a filthy mouth_ , she had just smiled, took their order, and has been doing the same ever since.

That seemed like a distant memory though, completely disconnected and unrelated to the family in front of her now. They had changed. Slowly. The layers peeling back, their true selves taking shape. She watched the transformation up close as Alexis gradually opened up to her, but also from afar, watching the interactions at the cafe between Johnny and Ivan, Moira and Jocelyn, David and Patrick, and Alexis and Ted. This was why the open mic night was one of Twyla’s favorite memories, it wasn’t just the beauty of such a blatant display of the purest love she had ever seen, but it was like the final pieces of a puzzle she had been watching finally clicking into place. 

That night was the first time she saw David get emotional, his guard coming down in the face of unabashed love. Moira, whose vocabulary usually required you to always keep a dictionary on you, was speechless, and Patrick, guitar in hand, eyes locked on David, was for the first time completely and unashamedly himself. When thinking about the open mic night at the Rose Apothecary like she was now, as she watched Patrick and David embrace, she could see clearly the arc of their relationship, their stories written in the stars, their destinies intertwined. And while that was a pivotal moment in the Patrick and David story, it isn’t the one she thinks of now as Patrick makes his way to a booth, sliding in across from his parents. David had done the same once, sliding into the booth across from Patrick the night of their first “date” at the café for David’s birthday. 

When Patrick had walked into the café that night for David’s birthday it was only consolation of what she knew his feelings to be. Patrick’s morning stops at the cafe revealed all Twyla needed to know about how he felt about David. That was one of the many luxuries of running the café, not only did she hear all the gossip in town, but she also got to see how everyone was coming together: love and affection were oftentimes expressed through food. With Patrick, his love was shown through an order of a tea and a caramel macchiato skim, 2 sweeteners, and a sprinkle of cocoa powder every morning. 

Every morning.

And while the drinks were always waiting for him now when he walked in, Twyla remembered how evident the early telltale signs of a crush were: the blush on his cheeks, the way he said David’s name, his voice riddled with uncertainty as he asked what David usually ordered. All of it pointed to the inevitable; Patrick Brewer was falling in love and Twyla got to see it firsthand in the little everyday proclamations. 

On David’s birthday, she remembered going over to the table before he arrived that night, two menus in hand. Patrick was dressed in a dinner jacket very unlike his normal blue button-down and jeans. Twyla noted the way he looked from her to the door every few seconds, his leg bouncing nervously under the table.

_“Big date tonight?_ ” She said sprightly, deciding it was best to play dumb. A telling blush crept up his neck, and she struggled to force the knowing smirk off her face.

_“Oh, no... not a date, just celebrating David’s birthday_ ,” said Patrick, smiling briefly before cutting his eyes back to the door.

She smiles, nodding innocently, and lays a menu across from Patrick: dinner for two. _“Well, I hope you have a lovely time, I’ll be right over here if you need anything!_ ” Pointing to the bar she walked away, only making her way back to the table after she saw that David had opened the beautifully wrapped gift that Patrick had gotten him.

Two birthdays and Twyla had been privy to both. One as their waitress and now, as their friend.

.

***

Despite the chaos earlier in the day for the party, everything was set up properly: the savory smell of crab cakes on the back table wafted through the room, zhampagne bottles littered the counter. Ray sat at a booth against the wall; his camera held high as he took video footage of the party. Ronnie sat across from Roland and the typical frown that usually marks her face when she’s in any conversation with Roland has settled tonight into a smile. Nothing could break Twyla from the happiness of this moment, all her favorite people together celebrating. 

She made her way to the back of the room, letting introductions be made, and leaned against the wall smiling, shaking her head lightly. She remembered the reason David gave Patrick about why the cafe was closed for the evening - a decoy so David could set up for the party - and thought the salmonella outbreak wasn’t even a reasonable lie. I mean okay sure, the mozzarella sticks don’t always hold up on the way from the fridge to the table and sometimes the smoothies, which change every day depending on her mood, aren’t always the best, but if her mom taught her anything it was that things don’t always turn out the way they’re supposed to. She learned that lesson after the whole family saw her boyfriend on America’s Most Wanted.

Things are _always_ changing, shifting, and sometimes, like with her mom's boyfriend, there’s no way to truly mask the ugly inside. But other times, _more often than not_ Twyla thought, the change of something can be beautiful and profound. That’s the one thing she has witnessed first-hand throughout her life, with all her crazy relatives and chaos -- metamorphosis. 

The chatter died down a little as Patrick took his seat across from his parents on the other side of the cafe. David had been in an uproar all afternoon, his hair sticking up from raking a hand through it, voice pitched at a slightly higher octave than normal as he frantically tried to work out how to fix the situation Mr. Rose had irrevocably caused by accidently outing Patrick to his parents during check-in at the motel. Now though, things were seemingly falling into place. No one seemed angry, there was no yelling, and as the Roses sat staring at the Brewer’s while they talked, Twyla put together a plate of crab cakes and walked over.

“Oh my god Twy!” Alexis gushed, booping her on the nose, “Thank you!”

“Mhmm!” David hummed, “Now this is what I call stress eating,” he teased halfheartedly, his comment falling flat as his attention was focused entirely elsewhere. 

Twyla put the crab cakes down on the counter and looked with the others to the corner of the room where Patrick and his parents sat in deep conversation, their faces concerned as Patrick talked, his gaze down at his hands which were clasped anxiously in front of him. Looking back at David, Twyla felt the tension radiating off him, his hair growing messier by the minute as he pushed a hand through it absentmindedly. He chewed on his lip, bringing a crab cake up to his mouth only to put it back on the napkin he held in his hand.

She could only imagine the stress he must be feeling and while she wanted to tell him what her father always told her when she was feeling unsure about a situation, _“when in doubt, say it with a song,_ ” she knew that wasn’t going to be helpful advice. _Especially_ since David wasn’t Patrick and didn’t really like to perform unless (and she heard this straight from Stevie so no gossip here) there’s a karaoke machine and polar bear shots!

Patrick glanced their way then, and where the family was once quiet and intense, instantly they turned away, chatting amicably to each other under false pretenses of being chill.

“No problem,” Twyla said hurriedly, turning her back to the Brewer’s, “we do have a _lot_ of crab cakes.”

***

The evening was relatively over now. People had begun trickling out until there was only David, Patrick, Twyla, and mounds of crab cakes left on the back table. Either David had over ordered, or not enough people had eaten them. Twyla figured it was the former. After the last person had left, leaving Patrick and David still swaying arm in arm in the middle of the room, Twyla tied her apron around her waist and collected abandoned dishes from around the café. She wanted to be useful and give David and Patrick some time alone. 

While many people thought Twyla a little oblivious and slightly ridiculous, she always knew when to put her two cents in and when to fade into the background. Like now, she blended in, owing working at the cafe all these years to how good she is at disappearing in a crowded room. Whether it was filling glasses when the table was occupied in a conversation, looking over her shoulder every once and a while to check if they were almost done without bothering them, or slipping the check with a soft _“no rush”_ on the table as she passed by – she was good at it and she enjoyed watching from the outskirts as memories were being made. If she got to admire that from afar for the rest of her life, she would be content. Despite everything, the craziness of her home life, the way people sometimes undermined her, talked over her, or didn’t fully listen – all she really wanted was to make people happy. 

The other thing she was really good at was hearing _almost_ everything in the cafe.

She wasn’t sure if her hearing had improved from the years of having to discern what people were saying amongst the rest of the chatter when she was taking orders or whether it was because the cafés seats were all kinda close to each other, but she could hear almost every conversation if she was paying attention. Like now, even as David and Patrick danced in the middle of the café, their faces close sharing the same breath, she could still hear the snippets of conversation that flowed between them.

“So, I know you’re annoyed that the surprise got blown but this party might go down as one of the happiest nights of my life.” Patrick said softly, looking at David like he was the only person in the room. That expression hadn’t changed all night even when the entire town was around and his parents, who he hasn’t seen in a long time, were here on a surprise visit. Even then, Twyla noticed how he tracked David around and the soft smile shared between them over people’s shoulders and across the room.

His arms were wrapped around David’s waist as he pulled him tighter, swaying in time to _Brighter than Sunshine_ by Aqualung, David’s arms encircling his neck. Their movements were minimal, their focus not on the music or the dancing, but on each other.

“ _…I never understood before…I never knew what love was for…”_

Wanting to give them a bit of privacy, she moved to the kitchen, feigning putting dishes in the sink but really, she was taking the moment to capture this image, cataloguing it for another day; maybe one with toasts and speeches, one where vows were proclaimed and songs that profess their love were sung. She thought the day would be very much like this one; a day where the town gets to witness two people completely in love. 

David’s head was thrown back in laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners, a smile wide and so achingly sincere on his lips. This was a smile she had never seen before and she knew it must be one of those special smiles reserved only for Patrick and she looked away, her long brown ponytail bouncing behind her. She walked around the kitchen then, sweeping bottles into a trash bag and tossing crab cakes into a few to-go containers. When faced with the kind of unrelenting, fierce love that Patrick and David shared, Twyla couldn’t help but think about her own relationship with Mutt. That had been over for a few years now, but she saw now that she never had that with him: the intimacy and connection, the sense that they knew you better than you knew yourself. 

She looked back at them as David sighed, his hands running along Patrick’s arms caressingly, “It was just a very messy day, and I was -- I was trying to detangle things...and...and just make everything okay.” His gaze was intense despite the small smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. She had always taken this smile as the one he did when he was uncomfortable and feeling particularly vulnerable. His head was tilted down a bit to look Patrick directly in his eyes. 

Patrick softly, and with a fondness that made her blush said, “Yeah, well, you made everything okay.” David’s smirk softened and Patrick’s eyes flickered down to his lips.

At the start of the kiss Twyla turned away, continuing her cleanup of the cafe, going over to the counter to wipe down some of the wine glasses. _A love like this is rare_ , Twyla thought and while that could’ve made her sad, it instead made her wonder if, in all her life, she had never seen such an honest depiction of love. Obviously living in such a small town, she had been aware of the brief time that Patrick and David had broken up. In that moment, it was reminiscent of the relationships she had always witnessed her mother in, heartbreaks and tears and messy situations. But now, looking at Patrick and David’s relationship, having healed and grown since that brief time away, having seen the lengths that both parties went to better themselves - she realized that this expression is what she needed to remember. Not the ugly, one-sided, tumultuous relationships her mother had, but the beauty and commitment of Patrick and David’s romance.

She wiped her hands on her apron and set the glasses she was wiping down on the drying towel. Grabbing her keys from a drawer behind the counter, she made her way over to them, still caught in each other's arms, lips pressed together. David’s hair was messy, not from his own hand, but from Patrick’s as he angled David’s head deepening the kiss. She cleared her throat and they pulled back hesitantly, a little breathless. 

“Not to step on the moment, but uh, I do have to lock up in five.”

Patrick smiled softly, looking mildly flustered, and David nodded. Twyla smiled and turned away, keys in her pocket as she let herself out, the cafe door closing softly behind her leaving Patrick and David alone. She would leave them for a few minutes and lock up when they were ready. 

The cool autumn air hit her as she crossed the threshold and goosebumps trailed along her skin. She breathed a sigh of contentment and made her way to a table to wait. It had been a wonderful party and an equally beautiful night to match. The weather had cooled down significantly, and the wind picked up loosening wisps of hair from her ponytail. Pushing the strands behind her ears, she closed her eyes, taking in the quiet and the serene and the peacefulness that surrounded her. After a minute she opened her eyes and looked up. The sky was clear, and she made out the few constellations she knew. Here, with the stars above her and the power of fate and destiny on the other side of the cafe doors, she chuckled softly.

_It truly was written in the stars_ , she thought. 

**Author's Note:**

> I may make this into a series?? Patrick and David’s relationship from different town members POV’s…what do y’all think?


End file.
